


Dragon's Den

by RoksanaLyasin



Series: Dragon Age One Shots [2]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Denial, Denial of Feelings, Ferelden, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Pre-Relationship, Prompt Fic, Redcliffe, Romantic Tension, Tumblr Prompt, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 21:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11365896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoksanaLyasin/pseuds/RoksanaLyasin
Summary: Dragon battles seldom go as planned.





	Dragon's Den

**Author's Note:**

> **Dragon Age Prompt** | [Click here to read it on Tumblr](https://roksanalyasin.tumblr.com/post/162465402277/for-dwc-97-i-cant-feel-my-legs).  
>  **““I can’t feel my legs!”” for[@aurianavaloria](https://aurianavaloria.tumblr.com/) and [DWC @dadrunkwriting](http://dadrunkwriting.tumblr.com/).**  
>  **Rating:** Teen.  
> 

The ground shook beneath their feet, rocks shuddering from their places in the cliff at the companions’ flank as the beast flapped its massive wings, lifting off the ground when it spotted them across the clearing.  It landed hard, sending out a shockwave of dust.

Cassandra covered her face, using her shield to deflect the debris that pelted them. ‘Well, that’s definitely a dragon,’ she said, glancing at her companions, ‘I assume this is the one the people of Redcliffe complained about.’

Malakar knew he should be worried, knew he should be shaking at the sight of the formidable beast. Instead, he felt the thrill of adrenaline rush through his veins.  He had only seen such a creature in books, had never imagined they could be so immense and terrifying, yet so incredibly beautiful.  His eyes traced the richly coloured scales on its neck that glinted orange and red in the sunlight, and he was captivated by the smoke on its breaths, by the charcoaled earth it left in its wake with every step as it approached.

‘It looks rather angry.’

‘It is a dragon,’ Dorian snapped, his voice dancing with sarcasm.  He straightened, his staff at the ready when the dust settled. ‘Shall we get this over and done with?’

The dragon reared its head, called by the sounds and vibrations of Cassandra’s shield as she battered it with the hilt of her sword, drawing the dragon’s attention away from her companions. 

When Dorian moved forward Malakar followed, trusting in his companions’ experience to guide him through the difficult fight.  The two mages cast from a distance while Cassandra and Bull attacked the beast head on, besieging its thick legs.

Malakar had specialised in ice magic since his youth and knew his spells would break down the dragon’s defences, but he was a defender by nature, his focus torn between supporting his companions and attacking the dragon.  He cast with rapid flourishes, body flowing with his magic as he bombarded the beast with spells, only stopping when a deafening roar sounded, echoing off the cliffs and stunning them.  As soon as the sound cleared he returned to his task, still alternating between casting shields upon the warriors and sending frosty spells at the dragon's head and neck.

‘Use your strongest magic, Inquisitor,’ Dorian shouted above the din of battle, ‘the dragon will laugh at me if I cast the majority of the spells in my repertoire. I will protect Cassandra and Bull.’

Malakar nodded, focusing on the Fereldan Frostback, but his gaze still lingered on his companions as they battled at the dragon’s feet.  Cassandra pulled back, dodging a swipe, claws barely a breath away from ripping at her armour.  Bull was less agile, a meaty limb slamming into his chest and throwing him back several feet.  

‘They can handle themselves,’ Dorian called, ‘now, do it!’  

Malakar grit his teeth.  He raised his staff, drawing on his magic, a calm settling over him.  Mist filled the clearing, winds whipping at his robes as he called down a blizzard upon the beast.  The icy gale lashed the dragon and it growled, eyes turning towards him, drawn by the thrum of his magic in the air.

Malakar focused on the spell as he willed storm to encircle the massive beast, and despite the powerful storm, Cassandra did not feel the chill of the magic that surrounded her.  She stepped back, bashing her shield with her sword again, trying to taunt the dragon, but it could not hear her above the roar of the frosty wind.  It sucked in a breath, a small puff of smoke leaking from its nose before it sent a ball of flame towards its target.

Malakar had barely enough time to move, his fade step taking him out of range and into the cover of the cliffs.  He glanced back, and suddenly the adrenaline felt cold in his veins; the ground smouldered in his wake, a reminder of the true danger they faced.

Cassandra slashed at the dragon’s ankle, breaking through its thick hide and drawing its attention back to the warriors at its feet.  It dropped forward, weakened by the onslaught, and the earth shook beneath them.  The four companions stood their ground, even as the dragon lumbered to its feet, even as it spread its wings and launched into the air. 

It circled above, bursts of flame falling upon them.  They dodged, moving together, a groan on Dorian’s lips as the beast flew up to a ledge.

‘Of course, it makes us follow it,’ he said, scowling at the beast before he cast a glared at the Iron Bull.

The Qunari laughed heartily and charged ahead. ‘Just means it’s getting weaker!’

The four companions raced up the rocky path, the warriors leading the charge.  The dragon was waiting, drawing an easy breath, a stream of fire blasting over the path in front of them.  Malakar grabbed Dorian, dragging him out of harm’s way, the rocky ledge providing cover from the flames. 

Only when the stream above their head disappeared did they move, following the warriors into the new clearing, surrounded by jutting columns of rocks.  There was less room to move for them, but the dragon would suffer worse from it, blocked in by the high walls.   

The mages skidded to a stop, each casting glances to the other, an understanding passing between them.  Dorian moved away, into the line of sight of the dragon as he cast a shield over the warriors while they taunted the beast, leaving Malakar to skirt along the edge of the rocks. 

He stopped at the dragon’s flank.  He drew on the depths of his mana, fighting against the faint feeling that swelled in his mind and made his stomach churn.  He cast another blizzard – the last of his mana draining with the spell – but it was enough. 

A choked roar wrenched from the dragon’s chest, and as before it turned its gaze to Malakar.  With the last of its strength, it whipped its tail, too fast for Malakar to dodge.  Air rushed from his lungs as the thick limb hit his chest, sweeping him off his feet.  He slammed into the stone, spots dancing in his vision at the contact, head throbbing.

Malakar watched as the dragon slumped forward, its lifeless body shaking the earth as it fell.  He felt relief to see the battle end, but above him the rocks shook, one of the stone pillars falling.  He observed it as if in slow motion, too broken to move, weighed down by his injuries.  Somewhere he heard a cry – perhaps his own, he did not know for sure – before it landed over him.

‘Malakar!’

Dorian slid the last few metres towards Malakar, Bull and Cassandra on his heels.  He stopped at the Inquisitor’s side, hands framing his face. 

‘Hurry, Bull!’ he cried, tapping Malakar’s cheek, ‘Stay with us, Mal.’

‘Dorian…’ He coughed, dust and rubble stirring from his face. ‘Dorian, I can’t feel my legs!’

‘You’re going to be fine,’ Dorian said, but even he heard the waver in his voice, felt his hands shake as he tried to unclasp the leather satchel on his belt.  He reached in with trembling fingers, uncorking the small phial as Bull and Cassandra heaved the massive stone from his legs. 

Dorian slid his hand under Malakar’s neck, careful not to jostle him.  He resisted the urge to pour the bitter liquid down the elf’s throat.  Malakar grimaced at the taste but drank ever drop.

‘That’s it, I know it tastes foul,’ Dorian said, finally allowing himself to smile as colour slowly returned to Malakar’s cheeks.  He glanced down trying to ignore the bloodied tears in the fabric of the Inquisitor’s pants. ‘Can you wiggle your toes?’

‘It hurts, but…’ Malakar grit his teeth, straining as he moved the small digits. ‘Yes, I can move them.’

Dorian breathed a sigh of relief, and he brushed a thumb over Malakar’s dirt covered cheek.  All at once he realised he’d eased the mage into his lap, that he was bending over him, his face so close that he could smell the bitter elfroot potion.

Malakar felt his breath hitch as Dorian leant closer, the hand that had traced his cheek moving to cup his jaw, urging him up, but before their lips met Dorian seemed to shake himself and pulled back.  Malakar ached at the loss of Dorian’s touch, at the loss of his gaze as he glanced away from him, hand moving from his jaw.  

Dorian stood up, offering his hands.  Malakar stared at them for a moment, overwhelmed by the emotions that tugged at his mind – his heart – so unsure of what he had just felt.  He hesitated for a final moment before accepted Dorian’s offer, and Dorian carefully hauled Malakar from the rocky ground.  

‘Look at you, all covered in dust,’ Dorian said, and he reached up to brush the pebbles from Malakar’s hair, but as quickly as he had raised his hand, he dropped it, something so dark fluttering through his soft gaze.  Malakar fought the urge to reach for Dorian as he turned away, curling his fingers into a fist at his sides.  He had resisted these urges before - he could resist again.

He would resist again.

Dorian cleared his throat. ‘Well, I guess we should get back to camp,’ he said, daring a half glance back before he steeled himself, leading the way down the path.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments always appreciated <3


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